


Whatever it takes...

by dedlit



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blackmail, Bukkake, Creampie, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Graphic Description, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Slut Shaming, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Verbal Humiliation, demeaning language, everything hurts and nothing is beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedlit/pseuds/dedlit
Summary: Kinkmeme prompt:Johnny gets knocked out and wakes up to the horrible sight of Daniel doing everything to prevent the thugs in the chop shop from killing Johnny.
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, Daniel LaRusso/Other(s)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 140





	1. ... to safe you

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd go to hell after 'Snake Pit' ... guess I'm aspiring to safe my spot there.
> 
> HEED THE WARNINGS!  
> This might be the right spot to say: I'm sorry...
> 
> And this is definitely the right spot to thank the most amazing beta-reader on the globe: [kdyelo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo)!!! Who helped me re-work and end this glorious dumpsterfire with a 'BAM'. You're the best around and I highly appreciate it!

"I should've known better than to team up with a lunatic like you." Johnny heard LaRusso say, and then the world around him went black.

When he slowly regained consciousness, his head throbbed. He felt slightly sick. 

'Concussion,' his brain provided. He tried to move his arms in vain; they were probably bound. The feeling of concrete under his body told him he was lying on the ground. 

Slowly he blinked, while he evened out his breath. After all, it wasn't the first time he’s been beaten unconscious during a fight. Letting your opponent know you're back with the living again has never been a good strategy. 

When he tried to talk he registered that those assholes must have put duct tape over his mouth. It was probably the same with which they had bound his arms behind his back.

 _Great, on the day I haven't shaved. Removing it will hurt like a bitch._

An eerily familiar voice brought him back to his current situation — God, how he loathed LaRusso’s tone when he’s trying to calm him down. 

But the words weren't directed at Johnny. 

"Come on, guys, we're really sorry. Just let me take him, and we are off. I promise not to bother you fine gentlemen again."

All Johnny saw were legs. LaRusso's, in his expensive sneakers, surrounded by five other pairs.

A hoarse laugh followed. "You hear that, boss? He thinks we’re fine gentlemen."

"I don't want any trouble. Please tell me how I can make it up to you." Johnny could imagine LaRusso’s big, pleading eyes, his delicate features twisted into his best salesman smile.

"Maybe we can work something out." That was the deep voice of the guy that seemed to be their leader. He started circling LaRusso while the others hummed and chuckled dirtily.

LaRusso was all too unaware of the underlying tone, judging by his enthusiasm about that proposal. "You want money? No problem, I'll pay you."

"To then run to the cops? Tsk, tsk, tsk, I want something of value, something that makes sure you won't go straight to the police like the good little boy scout you seem to be." 

LaRusso let out a noise of disapproval. Johnny could vividly imagine him cringing at being called 'little'. LaRusso was nearly as tall as him but weirdly appeared to be rather … petite. Other than his weight, the feisty man was a fighting machine, probably deadly if he really wanted to be.

Johnny remembered the spark of concern that had flashed through him when they fought the guys before and the gang's boss had picked up LaRusso with such ease. His worries were eradicated a couple of seconds later by LaRusso’s well-placed hits.

"Look, just tell me what you want." A little bit of his usual arrogance crept back in LaRusso's voice.

"It’s easy. You'll do whatever we want, so you and your little friend over there can leave without getting carried out in a body bag. Sounds good?"

Johnny could hear his confusion when LaRusso said, "Yeah, whatever. I can help you with those cars. I actually know a lot about how to- "

The thug interrupted him with a dark chuckle, "I think you misunderstood our intentions. Get on your knees!"

"What?!"

When he didn't move, one of the men shoved LaRusso down on the ground, and Johnny could finally see the man's face. Big bambi eyes full of disbelief, all while irritation dominated his body language. 

"Listen, pretty boy, I'll spell this out for you. We can go one of two ways. I'll either blow a hole through your buddy's head, or you’ll become our little slut for this lovely afternoon. Your choice." 

The unmistakable sound of a semi-automatic being cocked and made ready to shoot ringed through the dimly-lit garage.

Johnny could see the desperation in LaRusso's face, the way he raised his hands in a half-pleading, half-calming gesture. “Listen, you don’t wanna go th-“ He stopped talking when the gun was pointed directly at him. He fearfully, slowly lifted his hands, obviously overwhelmed by the situation. 

When the gun was turned back in Johnny's direction, he closed his eyes but felt the room's gazes on him.

"Please," LaRusso whispered, "I... I'm sorry. I'll do what you say. Just please don't..."

The guys laughed, and Johnny risked opening his eyes again. 

One pulled out his sticky cock and slapped LaRusso's face with it. It was already hard. "Come on, little slut, let's see if you're any good at it." 

Their boss let himself fall to a seated position on a wheel, where he leaned forward and smiled sweetly at LaRusso. "Do you get it now? The situation you're in? We hardly ever see such a pretty face in here, so you understand we have to make good use of it." The gun in his right hand casually pointed at Johnny, his gaze still fixed on LaRusso. "It’s your decision, slut. You disobey, and my finger will slip. You refuse to do as told, and my finger will slip. You bite, and my finger... you get the idea.”

LaRusso looked like he wanted to protest, his face flushed with anger; instead, he just balled his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. 

One of the guys addressed their boss, “Maybe I should slap him a little around, Chris?” 

The brunet gangster, obviously Chris, gave LaRusso a dry smile, “You wouldn’t mind, slut, would you?”

LaRusso didn’t look impressed.

“Today, princess,” the man above him snarled.

"Listen," LaRusso tried again, "Don't do this. That's beneath you. That's not who you are. You're… you're better than that. If you need money, I have some on me. You can even have the Audi outside. Just take whatever you need. You could—"

The gun was fired, and Johnny hated how he flinched when the bullet pierced the floor a few feet away from him. 

"Suck the dick," Chris said. "Come on. You know how to do it. I bet you’ve sucked many cocks in your life. Bet you love it, sucking fat, hard cocks."

“I haven’t, and I don’t love it. You can’t be serious. I mean, you would risk jail for this?” LaRusso gestured up and down at himself. Johnny groaned internally; fucking LaRusso had no idea how he affected others. 

When Johnny had seen him outside his apartment earlier, it wasn’t only the fact that the man had waited for him that nearly made him double over – it was the fact that LaRusso looked breath taking today. 

Instead of his usual ill-fitted suits he wore tight jeans hugging his ass in a favorable manner, a navy-blue bomber jacket and his hair was styled to the tee. If LaRusso wouldn’t have immediately looked so concerned when he had spotted Johnny, the blonde was sure he would’ve cracked some jokes. “You want to court me?” “Walking around in my neighborhood dressed like that gets you in trouble.” or a simple “Hello, beautiful asshole, how do you want to ruin my life today?”

None of those comments seemed funny to Johnny now.

Chris’ voice carried a dangerous note when he answered. “You have five seconds. I’m already wanted for murder. We’re working our asses off in here to get some fake passports and leave the country soon. I don’t have the slightest problem committing one more kill.” 

LaRusso blanched.

Chris popped every word. “One – last – chance…”

LaRusso closed his eyes in defeat. He leaned towards the cock near his face, wrinkled his nose, and licked the glans. He circled it with his tongue, his tip teasing the rim, licking the shaft hesitantly. 

The men around him chuckled and whispered insults. Johnny’s horror froze him into place. 

He wasn’t worth this. LaRusso should let them shoot him and get away.

His rival made a noise in the back of his throat, a sob, as he faced the realization that this was truly going to happen, that there was no way out of this. LaRusso must have known at some level that it was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn't help but plead with the men around him with his eyes.

"Go on," Chris encouraged him. "Take it a little deeper."

LaRusso obeyed. He hollowed his cheeks and flattened his tongue against the dick.

"Imagine, you want to bring that cock you're sucking off, you want him to come inside your mouth, you want to swallow that hot come... what do you do, huh? Do you moan and whine? Do you beg for it?"

LaRusso nodded, probably feeling this is the answer the man wanted.

The guy above him got impatient, demanding, “Enough playing around.” His demand was interrupted when LaRusso opened his mouth instantly and swallowed the stiff prick whole, bracing his hands against the guy’s thighs. 

Johnny could hear the man above him groan in appreciation.

“Not so high and mighty with Larry’s cock in your mouth, huh?“ the boss mused, his voice amused. “Aren’t you sorry now for threatening us, slut?“

LaRusso only growled around the dick and sucked harder.

Larry slapped him lightly on the cheek.

“Say you’re sorry, you whore.“

LaRusso breathed heavily through his nose, but remained silent and continued bobbing his head slowly up and down on the cock filling his mouth. Larry turned to their boss again as he shoved his dick carelessly in and out of LaRusso’s mouth. The guy even had the audacity to grab LaRusso’s hair for leverage. “Hey Chris, I think this whore wants to be disobedient.”

Their boss made a show of aiming his gun again.

“P-ease, dowm’t!“ LaRusso exclaimed hastily, the words barely recognizable around the shaft that filled his mouth. “’m so-y!“

Larry grinned, looking down at LaRusso’s pretty face.

Meanwhile, their leader, Chris, fished out his phone. Larry pushed in so deep that Johnny could hear LaRusso trying to swallow around the dick before pulling out. Larry’s hand was buried deep in the thick dark hair when he yanked the head further back. 

The sight of LaRusso was disturbing. Saliva dripped down his chin, his eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and his used, red mouth hung slightly open.

If Johnny’s own traitorous dick hardened at the sight, he would never admit it.

Chris turned the camera on and began filming LaRusso.

“Are you a filthy whore?“ he asked.

LaRusso hesitated for a moment, so Larry slapped him again.

“Yes,“ he said, looking into the camera. His usually brown eyes were nearly black and huge. “I am.“

“Say it, then.“

“I’m a filthy whore.“ Johnny’s heart pumped faster, though LaRusso’s words were spoken in a calm voice.

“And you’re nothing but a dumb cum slut.“

“I’m a dumb cum slut.“

To the thugs collective, hooting satisfaction, LaRusso had tears in his eyes now, his face burning with humiliation.

Chris put the phone away.

Larry’s hand still gripped LaRusso’s hair tightly, and he began to fuck his mouth again. LaRusso’s high-pitched whining seemed to excite him further. “Does that turn you on, slut?“

Then Larry pulled out, held LaRusso’s mouth wide open with one hand, and spurted across his face—letting him swallow a good, hot load, but mostly covering his face and his hair with thick white cum. The young man let out an ugly laugh. “Fuck, that felt good. Keep your mouth open, whore. Haven’t had any in weeks.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re an ugly fuck with a tiny dick,” another one shouts. 

“Fuck off, Trevor. We can’t all have a monster cock like yours.”

“You’re just jealous.”

In the meantime, Chris took his phone out again to snap pictures of LaRusso’s cum-covered face. LaRusso seemed to want to protest, but it was hard to be articulate with Larry’s spunk still in his open mouth. And, if Johnny read Chris’s face correctly, the boss seemed to be as surprised by LaRusso’s semi-willing display as himself.

LaRusso looked at Chris, his mouth obediently open to display Larry’s load in it. The hand of the ugly little fuck was still buried in that dark hair when he complimented, “Such a good boy.”

A small, broken noise escaped LaRusso’s throat.

“That’s it, you fuck slut. You’re into this?” Chris said roughly and got up. He made a show of taking LaRusso’s picture. After a while, he allowed LaRusso to swallow the load down, but he did not allow him to clean his face, demanding, “I want an answer now. You’re into sucking cocks?”

Johnny wanted to shout, attack, do anything, but he was having a hard time just keeping his eyes open. His body hurt all over, and if he tried to push himself up he would probably puke, and suffocate thanks to the stupid tape on his mouth. He hated concussions. They made everything worse.

LaRusso was still on his knees, but through his trousers, Johnny could clearly make out his hard dick pressed against those blue jeans. So could Chris. 

LaRusso’s usually smooth voice was rough and his New Jersey accent strong when he demanded, “Are we finished here? I did what you wanted, now let us go.” Gone was the obedient man from a few seconds ago, replaced by the arrogant bastard he so often was in front of Johnny.

Johnny knew they weren’t going anywhere soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Prompt](https://cobrakaikink.dreamwidth.org/702.html?thread=105406#cmt105406)


	2. ... to sustain you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How bad should it get?
> 
> Yes.

_“Are we finished here? I did what you wanted, now let us go.”_

“Oh, not for some time,” Chris answered as he stood, tipping his chin with the gun a few times. “What’s your name?”

LaRusso looked at him with disbelief on his face, as if he couldn't believe that someone like Chris would dare to address him, then laughed and shook his head.

“Freaking unbelievable,“ he mumbled to himself, taking out a handkerchief to remove the sperm from his face. “I did what you asked.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “You’ll let us go now.” 

Chris gritted his teeth. Johnny was confused; did LaRusso not realize the situation he was in? A minute ago he had obediently sucked a dick for them, and now he was trying to exert his authority again?

“So I’m trying to be nice to a dirty little twink like you, and that’s how you thank me?“ Chris said. When Johnny cast a quick look back at LaRusso, he saw the man rolling to his feet, into a squat, looking at Chris with strangely dark, nearly-black eyes and half-parted lips. 

A ghost of his hateful sneer lingered, but more than that, he looked hungry.  
“What are you going to do?“ LaRusso asked, biting his lower lip. “Force me to swallow _your_ prick now?“

“Hey boss, I know who he is.” That was the little bastard they initially chased. His heavy accent tinted his words. “He’s all over the valley. Daniel LaRusso, chopping prices.”

Another one laughs, “Yeah, right, I remember a billboard with him. Now I know why he had a dick sprayed on his face. Seems like that wasn’t a joke.”

“You know who I am now. Can we finally go?” LaRusso asked huffily .

“Take your clothes off,“ Chris commanded in a dry voice.

“What?“ LaRusso asked, his voice incredulous.

“Take your clothes off,“ Chris repeated patiently. One of his henchmen cracked his knuckles.

“The fuck I’m—“ 

Chris slapped LaRusso across the face, the sharp sound echoing in the garage, and whistled with amusement when he saw LaRusso’s head flung to the side, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

When LaRusso turned his head back to look at him, a red mark was visible on his cheekbone, and his expression was a mixture of defiance and excitement.

“I’m not going to repeat myself again. I don’t care who you are. Right now you’re our bitch, understood?”

LaRusso shivered with fear, or was it excitement? Still on the floor, he took off his bomber jacket and t-shirt. One of the guys yanked them out of his hands and threw them in Johnny’s direction. Too late, he closed his eyes.

“Look who's awake! Sleeping beauty is with us again.” Larry rushed over to him and shoved him into a sitting position. Johnny was immediately dizzy and felt himself heave.

“Oh my god, are you alright, Johnny.” Before LaRusso could storm over though, Chris pointed his gun at Johnny.

LaRusso sat back on his feet, unmoving.

Chris sighed. “Get our guest a chair. And you,” he turned back to LaRusso, “I said all of your clothes. You better be naked in less than a minute, or I’m going to send your boyfriend to the afterlife.“

“He’s not my boyfriend. But you won’t hurt him, that’s the deal!” LaRusso hissed at him. Chris looked at him, almost alarmed by that sound—LaRusso sounded like a snake, a dangerous animal, all hate, and poison, and cornered.

Then LaRusso stood up, opened his trousers while toeing off his sneakers and pushed them down, together with his underwear, a pair of ‘Philipp Plein’ boxers. His cock sprang out, dark and slim and rock hard. 

Chris looked at it with a grin. “That’s better.” 

Meanwhile, Larry heaved Johnny into a chair. He was struggling with sitting up and his vision was slightly unfocused.

LaRusso obviously tried hard not to look over at Johnny. Embarrassment flushed his face, and his hands were still white, balled into tight fists. 

“Brace yourself against that car and spread your legs,“ Chris ordered.

Johnny’s stomach finally calmed down, and he could watch with more focus – which made him feel sick again. The whole scene was surreal. 

They were in a fucking chop shop. Junk surrounded them. LaRusso slowly walked over the dirty ground on his bare feet to a silver car, bending slightly forward over the hood and slowly spreading his legs. 

“Now, spread your ass.” 

LaRusso’s nipples were stiff and rock hard in the cold air. Johnny noticed how red and swollen they were, like his lips. He could practically see the adrenaline pumping through LaRusso.

The stupid man tried again, “You won’t kill him over this.”

Chris chuckled, “You wanna try me? Larry, hit him in the stomach.”

Johnny, blinded by the pain, was only dimly aware of LaRusso shouting. When the pain subsided, he heard his pleading, “Please, I’m sorry, okay, I’ll do it, I’ll do whatever!”

“Today, slut!”

Johnny thought that was it, LaRusso would refuse. Instead, he leaned further over the hood until his upper body was braced against it, shifted his legs widely apart, and obediently spread his buttocks with both hands. 

Johnny could see his hole pulse. It looked like one a modern porn star might have – shaved, clean, lighter than LaRusso’s otherwise tanned skin, and it was the most obscene display Johnny had ever seen. LaRusso’s flushed face, with tears of shame threatening to fall, completed the picture.

Chris walked closer and let one finger glide over the exposed pucker.

“What the-?“ LaRusso’s voice sounded desperate as he tried to stand up and cover himself, but Chris wouldn’t let him. “Stay exactly where you are, slut,“ Chris growled, and LaRusso sank slowly back, bracing himself on the car again. “I want everyone here to see what a slut you are. I mean, look at that hole, all clean and fancy and shit. And that hard cock pressed against our precious car; aren’t you ashamed, fancy boy?”

And Johnny could see he was. Tears of anger and shame started to glide down LaRusso’s twisted face, and sobs shook his body. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that. We aren’t as bad as you may think. I’ve taken a liking to you, so you get the good treatment. We could have just fucked you raw and let you bleed all over the floor, but we aren’t inhumane.” Chris’s voice is filled with false sweetness. 

“Fuck you!” LaRusso spat out between sobs. 

“In time. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Chris said. “I and the boys will watch you suck and fuck yourself on our cocks and for that, I want you prepared. Until I tell you to stop I want you playing with your hole to keep us in the mood. If we’re bored, we might destroy your ass before you’re ready, so make it good. You’re gonna thank me later for the kindness.“

LaRusso took that in. He seemed to want to say something, but deemed it better to keep his mouth shut. Chris grabbed a jar of vaseline, used for polishing the cars' dashboards, and places it in front of LaRusso’s face.

Johnny watched as LaRusso, still sniffling, dipped his fingers into the jar and reached behind him. One hand spreading a buttock, he rubbed the vaseline around and over his hole, slowly pushing some of the makeshift lube in. LaRusso’s body was shaking with fear when he finally, carefully, inserted one finger.

“Faster!” Chris commanded.

Johnny would tear all of them apart. He would murder them and cut them into pieces for this. The only emotion more potent than his rage was the burning desire for his karate rival building in the deepest darkest corners of his mind. 

It was so wrong, but he couldn’t keep from hardening. The sight of LaRusso pushing a finger in and out of his ass while tears streamed over his face was too much for any sane man to handle. And LaRusso had said it himself – Johnny was a lunatic.

When he looked at LaRusso again, he had added a second finger and slipped both in and out of his hole, circling it with more vaseline. His mouth was open, lax, and he wet his lips with his tongue. 

Johnny was shook when LaRusso shifted his naked form slightly to shyly glance over to him. All defiance, all aggressiveness was gone without a trace. Instead, his brown eyes were fixed on Johnny as though he was his anchor, the only one he saw.

Surprising, probably to everyone, LaRusso softly moaned, his body shuddered and he looked desperately at Johnny. His voice rang through the garage, "Is this how you like it?" he gasped, addressing no one in particular, biting his lip. Johnny felt sure the words were directed at him. LaRusso shoved his fingers roughly into his ass, where they fit more easily, almost effortlessly, as he continued to moan. Without blinking, he kept his eyes fixed on Johnny.

“Knew he was a fucking slut,” Larry murmured next to him. The man still kept a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, forcing him to remain upright. “Only whores walk around with their holes looking like that.”

LaRusso takes more and more vaseline, pushing it deep into himself, moaning louder and moving his hips, rubbing his cock against the car.

“Disgusting slut,” Chris said derisively. “Putting yourself on display like that. I mean how old are you? Thirty? Thirtyeight?”

“Fortynine,” LaRusso groaned while he pushed a third finger in. His gaze was still locked to Johnny’s, like LaRusso wished it was only them in here.

One of the guys whistled in approval, giving Chris a look when the man raised an eyebrow. “What? I like my guys older.”

Their boss nodded, “But you’ll have to wait, Trevor. After your cock, he’ll be no fun for anyone else here.”

Johnny registered what he meant. Against Trevor’s trousers, a massive, half-hard cock was visible. He would laugh at the fact that the ‘black cock’ trope seemed to hold up if there was anything laughable about the current situation.

Those seconds of glancing away was enough to break his connection with LaRusso, who seemed barely aware of his surroundings anymore anyways. He’d hiked one leg up on the car, spreading himself even further. 

Chris bent over the hood, leaning leisurely on it, his face inches from LaRusso’s. “Don’t you know this is what little twinks like you are made for? Getting their holes fucked? Shouldn’t you apologize to even look like that at your age?“

LaRusso parted his lips, moaned, and closed his eyes.

“Sorry,“ he whispered.

Johnny nearly jumped up. He hated to hear that word out of LaRusso’s mouth, delivered in that meek tone.

Chris smiled. “Tell me what you are and what you want.”

“I’m a disgusting whore,” LaRusso said, biting his lips and plunging his long fingers into his hole again. Johnny had a hard time restraining himself from doing something stupid. His own cock was treacherously throbbing.

“Nngh,” LaRusso moaned, arching up. “Can’t wait to have a cock fuck my hole.” 

Johnny clenched his teeth, unable to decide if he’d rather keep watching, or finally tune out LaRusso, who was fucking himself with abandon. 

“Don’t come,” Chris said before taking him by the back of his head and kissing LaRusso.

Johnny growled with fury. Why wasn’t LaRusso fighting? The answer obvious: Because no karate in the world was faster than a gun. LaRusso was doing this for him, to protect Johnny’s worthless life.

Chris’s menacing whispers carried through the room filled with sexual tension. “You really are a slut, huh? Tell me how often do you get fucked by guys? Probably daily.”

“Never,” LaRusso breathed.

Chris playfully hit his face. “Tsk, no lies.”

“It’s the truth.” LaRusso’s half-lidded eyes were unfocused. He shuddered every time his own fingers thrust in. “Only a few times. Was seventeen back then.”

Chris hit him again, harder. “That hole is way too loose. I know a used ass when I see one.”

“Only recently started to play with myself again. Toys.” LaRusso’s voice was reduced to whimpers.

“So when I push in, I’ll be your first real cock in ages?” 

LaRusso only nodded.

Everything went quickly then. Chris seized LaRusso’s hand and yanked his fingers out of his glistening, gaping hole with a plop. Coating his own fingers in vaseline, Chris plunged them in, making LaRusso shriek in surprise.

Chris said, “This is probably a dream come true for you, slut.” LaRusso shook, trying to get away from the thick fingers scissoring him even further open.

The big man unzipped his trousers and smeared some of the vaseline on his cock. Taking LaRusso’s hips, he pushed in, slowly, unforgiving. LaRusso screamed and thrashed.

"Hurts!" he sobbed. His erection wilted. "No!" he whimpered, but Chris was merciless. 

The man ordered him in a cold voice, “Relax!”

LaRusso’s hole swallowed the cock and closed around its base when Chris pushed in the last few inches, and his loud sob echoed through the garage. There was something savagely beautiful about the way LaRusso’s body was covered in a thin layer of his own sweat, panting heavily, obviously aroused again. At the same time, he could do nothing but take the vicious fucking he received.

Chris’s hands dug into those slender hips, leaving bruises for sure. “Fuck, you weren’t lying. Fucking tight slut hole you have there.” He kept leisurely thrusting. “Look at yourself," he taunted LaRusso. "You were born to be fucked like a whore."

When LaRusso didn’t answer, the man slapped his ass. Johnny saw one of the guys stroking himself, while the others palmed their cocks through their trousers.

"Answer me." Chris slapped his ass again, harder.

"Yes," LaRusso wailed, broken. "I was… made for this."

"Tell me what you are," the man demanded.

"I am a slut," LaRusso cried out as the man leaned forward again and pressed deep inside.

Johnny couldn’t stop himself any longer. He shouted into the tape over his mouth in utter frustration. Larry taunted him, “Oh no, someone is angry that you’re playing with his toy, Chris.”

Johnny blocked out the voices around him, laughing at his helplessness, taunting him for his inability to save his friend. Instead, he focused on LaRusso who had locked their eyes again, moving his hand over the surface of the car towards him.

The invisible bond between them was suddenly stronger than before, though it broke Johnny’s heart more and more as he kept watching. LaRusso needed his strength, and he would be there. He wouldn’t abandon him, wouldn’t close his eyes or avert his gaze like a pussy.

His realization of what Johnny was trying to do, and the gratitude in LaRusso’s face, were the last straw. Johnny felt angry tears stream down his face.

With a hard thrust, Chris stilled. LaRusso’s eyes rolled backward in his head with a loud sob.

One of the guys snarled, “Oh, come on, Chris, did you have to breed the bitch? You know how I hate to shove it in a used hole.”

“I swear to god, when you’re buried in this ass you won’t care anymore. Guess what they say about fancy guys and tight asses is true.” LaRusso stayed slumped over the car when Chris finally pulled out. “Push it out, slut.”

Johnny gulped when LaRusso’s broken body tried to do as told. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Chris growled when some of the come came out. He roughly shoved a finger in, pulling even more sperm out to drip down LaRusso’s long legs.

“Come on, Chris, man, you’ve had your fun. Let the rest of us play too.”


	3. ... to make you mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's menu: hurt, pain and gruesomeness
> 
> Thank you [kdyelo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdyelo/pseuds/kdyelo) for being an amazing beta and getting (us) through this, you are my rock!
> 
> Writing stuff like this is pretty relaxing and carthatic. Maybe I should get psychotherapy instead? ... *inner Johnny Lawrence activates* Nah, I'm good...

Johnny watched helplessly while one man after another had a go. One fingered LaRusso long enough for the others to get impatient, only to cheer seconds later when the man came, his hole pulsing around those fingers, shaking, sobbing and shouting in a desperate mixture of pain and pleasure.

They had to push Johnny back down several times. He had never felt as helpless in his life as he did right now. 

The worst thing was that the sight before him made him hard, which made him even angrier, sick to the core. He was truly degenerate. 

LaRusso rode the cock of the guy who fingered him to completion. 

Johnny hated him. How could he ride that disgusting vermin’s dick with pleasure written all over that beautiful face? Sweat dripped down his body, and he threw his head back in ecstasy as the man underneath him came, pushing up into him with stuttering thrusts. Johnny could practically see that cock pumping LaRusso full. The man even had the audacity to snivel and shudder when he was lifted off the dick, like he wanted to stay on it.

Why couldn’t he see how much this hurt Johnny? How it destroyed him? How much Johnny tried to wish not being the one who made the man fall apart on ‘his’ cock?

Instead he did the only thing he could. He kept on watching. He watched LaRusso suck another guy off, his hands behind his head this time. He watched when he was taken on the floor, his knees and hands scraping on the floor.

Chris recorded from time to time on his phone, before the sadist’s attention turned to Johnny. He sauntered over to him and leaned close to Johnny’s ear. “Isn’t he a beauty? I honestly thought this wouldn’t be any fun, but damn, man, he’s a natural bitch. I personally love it more when disgusting little sluts like him want it bad.” 

Johnny did the only thing he could do and glared at the man in disgust. 

“Oh, don’t give me morality when you sit here with your cock hard, blondie.”

An especially desperate moan prompted them both to look up, just in time to see another cock in LaRusso’s throat pulse as the man above him shot his load.

“Hey, Trevor? Mind sharing your turn with our guest?”

Johnny fought when they dragged LaRusso over to where he sat. The smaller man was drugged with pleasure and overstimulation to the point where he seemed barely aware of his surroundings.

Larry and Chris had a hard time holding Johnny in place, until the moment they basically threw LaRusso on him. 

Johnny went still. 

LaRusso’s manicured hands grabbed his sweatjacket, and the naked man in his lap clung to him desperately. It was Johnny’s sweetest dream and his greatest nightmare all at once. LaRusso moaned into his ear and let those perfect, slender fingers glide through his blonde hair, over his rough beard, and the tape over his mouth. 

Johnny sat stock-still and tried to press out a quiet, “Stop it. Please,” but it only sounded like a prolonged hum through the tape. LaRusso rolled his naked form against Johnny’s cock, and Johnny choked on a sob. That’s not how this was supposed to be. 

It was supposed to be just him and LaRusso, preferably divorced. It was supposed to be them walking down the street bickering and holding hands. It was supposed to be sweet shy kisses and tender words. Johnny had let himself imagine from time to time how he would be so gentle and careful with his former rival. How he would whisper sweet nothings in his ear while they made love. 

What he got instead is right now. What he got is LaRusso’s hips lifted and another man’s huge cock filling him. What he got was a soft high-pitched voice begging against his ear, “Don’t leave me. Please, Johnny. I can’t-” before gasping in desperation, eyes huge and full of fear.

And again, Johnny did the only thing he could. He softly pressed his cheek in support against Daniel’s head, now resting on his shoulder.

Chris huffed in amusement above them, “Trevor, my man. I know nobody who can look as indifferent as you while fucking.” 

The man behind Daniel raised an eyebrow. “This little slut is too willing, Chris. I mean, look at him, where’s the fun in that?” Still, he fucked into him with harsh thrusts.

LaRusso was softly moaning, “Yesohyesyesyes,“ lost in his pleasure. He pinched his own nipples, his sweaty forehead still leaned on Johnny’s shoulder for support.

Lazily, Chris kept his camera trained on LaRusso. “Fuck this is hot. His rim is stretched to the limit around your cock, man.” Whenever LaRusso pushed back, Trevor growled in displeasure, his grip hardening.

Despite all that, LaRusso moaned, tried to move frantically. 

At one point he tried to touch his cock. Chris did not permit him, though, slapping LaRusso’s hand away, so he rubbed and pinched his nipples instead. He started to talk to Johnny, so quietly between loud moans that Johnny at first wondered if it was his imagination. “I wanted it to be you. Imagined you. Every time in here, every night for months. My head filled with your scent. How you would… take me… kiss me… hold me… maybe even love me-“ The voice breaks at the last words, as did Johnny’s heart.

Trevor gave another hard thrust, growling and whining, almost as if he was fed up with his bitch, and LaRusso came, face and chest flushed, trembling and shuddering.

“Oh yes, oh fuck yes, Johnny!” he screamed, fucking himself on Trevor’s cock, riding out his orgasm. He twitched and shook for a long time, then finally hung limp, his eyes closed, panting and licking Johnny’s skin.

Trevor pulled out hard and LaRusso groaned in pain, clawing at Johnny’s skin, then sobbed. Cum gushed out, covering the inside and backside of his thighs, splattering onto the floor. LaRusso tried to cover his gaping hole with his hand, but Chris would have none of it, and even moved his phone closer to the hole. Amusement in his voice, he said, “That’s what I call a fucked hole. The damn thing is stretched so much it’s not closing. Come here, Larry, look at that.”

Johnny wanted nothing more than to tell LaRusso it would all be okay, that it was over.

“Look at the mess you made, you dirty cunt,” Chris growled. LaRusso whined, barely able to hold himself up while clinging to Johnny, his ass still in the air.

“Clean that up,” Chris ordered.

LaRusso looked at the impressive puddle of cum between his legs, dripping down his thighs on the floor, as well as the few drops from him across Johnny’s lap. He tried to scoot away, shaking his head, but Chris grabbed him by his hair and pushed him face first to the floor in the cum, like one would do with an errant dog.

“I said, clean that up, you stupid slut!”

After a moment of hesitation, LaRusso’s face distorted in something like disgust, and new tears leaked from his eyes. Sniffling and sobbing, he started to lick, first the floor, then he pushed himself up and started lapping across Johnny’s jeans; it would be impossible for LaRusso not to notice Johnny’s cock pressing hard between them now.

Chris seemed satisfied.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re good for, whore,” he said derisively. LaRusso sobbed quietly, defeated.

Chris finally turned off his phone and ripped the duct tape from Johnny’s face. Johnny was too stunned to say anything. Chris chuckled, “Really? Nothing?” 

Johnny pressed his lips into a tight line. 

“How disappointing. I hoped for some useless death threats. By the way, you should thank him,” Chris jerked his head towards LaRusso, “for being so nice and cleaning your jeans.” 

Johnny knew there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make everything ten times worse.

Chris turned to nudge LaRusso with his boot, “What a disappointment, your friend’s no fun. Aren’t you also disappointed, whore?” 

When it became clear LaRusso wouldn’t say anything, he kicked him harder. LaRusso whimpered.

Now that his high from his orgasm was abating, he seemed to understand the situation he was in. Chris huffed, apparently losing interest when neither of them replied. 

The men gathered around their boss while he replayed some of the videos he made on his phone. Then, Chris turned to Johnny and LaRusso one final time.

“One last thing.” Chris yanked LaRusso up by his hair. 

Johnny tried to jump to his feet, shouting, “Get your fucking dirty hands off of him.” But the room started spinning, and he let himself fall back again. The ugly laughter, LaRusso’s tear-stained face, his concussion, the smell of rape, it all made Johnny’s stomach turn and made the room spin even faster. He barely managed to whisper, “Come on, please, Daniel,” before closing his eyes against the wave of nausea.

Johnny heard hits and hard slaps like they were far away. He couldn’t focus. Johnny desperately tried to claw his way into consciousness, but he was pulled into an abyss, darkness finally sinking its claws into him to push him under.

\---

Johnny woke up in his own bed. His head hurt like a stampede had run him over. A hand touched his shoulder and the sweetest voice told him to go back to sleep.

\---

The sun hurt his eyes; Johnny felt a warm body pressing against his. He must be dreaming because LaRusso in his bed, curled into a ball with his head on Johnny’s shoulder, could only be a dream. His dark hair was damp as though the man had recently showered. Johnny was sure he’d never seen someone sleep that quietly. If not for the minimal movement of LaRusso’s chest under his Van Halen shirt, he might have thought the other man dead.

All of the warmth he felt suddenly left. Johnny’s mind obviously thought this was the right time to supply him with all of his memories of yesterday’s afternoon. 

Guilt and horror were the only emotions left in him.

He would never be able to repay the debt he owed LaRusso.

The man slowly moved in his arm and blinked with tired eyes. “Hey.” His voice, usually high and clear, was rough. Johnny consciously blocked out why.

Johnny said the only thing that came to his mind. “Sorry.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything.” The way LaRusso just shrugged it off made Johnny frown. “Keep your pity, Johnny.”

It’s times like this that Johnny asked himself how many Daniel LaRussos exist. The boy from highschool, the fighter, the loud-mouthed clown, the rival, the father, the husband, the mentor, the salesman, the gift-giver, the slut, the victim… the man was an enigma.

When LaRusso’s lips pressed against his, he immediately took LaRusso by the shoulders and shoved him away. The hurt expression LaRusso gave him was like a punch to his solar plexus. 

“Please, Johnny… please…”

The next half hour felt like a drug trip. They kissed, LaRusso moaned in his mouth and told him how much he wanted him, that this was all he needed, and so many pleas for more. Johnny couldn’t say no, he couldn’t deny him.

When LaRusso sank down on his cock, Johnny was sure he had reached a new low. But the man above him seemed so determined, so fulfilled and happy. And didn’t Johnny owe him?

It’s past midday and a shower later when Daniel LaRusso stood in his kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the contents of his fridge. He looked as impeccable as the day before. It was as though the events at the chop shop never happened, like this morning never happened.

“Guess I have to pick up some breakfast on my way home.” The fake lightness in his voice made Johnny sick again. For a second, the man looked unsure. “Can I come by tomorrow evening?”

There was only one answer and it was the wrong one. Johnny still gave it. 

The moment the door closed behind LaRusso, Johnny stormed into the bathroom and emptied his stomach into the toilet. He lay on the cold floor in his dimly lit bathroom for a long time. The light above him flickered while his head replayed the last 24 hours again and again and again.

\---

Daniel LaRusso sat in his car in front of Johnny’s apartment, going through the messages on his phone.

5:07pm >Amanda< _what do you mean you have to stay away overnight?_

5:13pm >Amanda< _daniel?_

5:32pm >Sam< _i’m using the dojo, dad :)_

6:14 pm >Amanda< _just keep an eye on john and be safe xxx_

02:37am >unknown id< _everything to your ‘satisfaction’_

7:36 am >Amanda< _i’m at the dealership, love you_

He wrote back, first to Amanda, then to Sam, then he replied to the message from the unknown ID. _did you get the money?_

An immediate reply popped up. _yes_

Daniel started to put the phone away, but paused when more messages flew in, at least four videos and twelve pictures. Most of them featured him in various positions; some displayed Johnny.

He smashed his fingers on the screen. _the deal was you delete them!!!!!_

_i will.  
thought you might want a little souvenir_

Daniel looked at a photo of Johnny, his expression one of pure protectiveness towards the person leaning on him, and deadly aggression towards the man pushing into the person. With soft touches, Daniel caressed the screen.

_if you ever want a repeat call us_

_that won’t be necessary  
i got what i wanted_

_you’re a freak  
see you around slut_

He was, wasn’t he? A freak. A slut. A trickster. A deceiver. A pathetic man so desperately in want for his high-school bully that he would do EVERYTHING to get him as soon as the tiniest opportunity arrived. 

Daniel let his head fall back against seat. But how could he have passed up on a chance to get what he wanted? Who could blame him for it? Johnny Lawrence’s guilt-ridden face flashed through his mind. The man belonged to him now. He would do whatever it took to make it up to him, and Daniel would make sure he never learned the truth. 

Giggles bubbled up in his chest; they soon became a laughing fit. 

“Stupid Lawrence…”

Daniel pressed his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of his laughter. Tears streamed down his face as his laughter turned into sobs. “Stupid, stupid, dumb, Lawrence…”


End file.
